


The Body in the Library

by mydogwatson



Series: The Postcard Tales [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Murder, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogwatson/pseuds/mydogwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John falls in love with his roommate.  Sherlock is mad.  It will probably all work out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Body in the Library

**Author's Note:**

> Every once in a while I like some teenlock. It is fun to think of Sherlock and John as schoolboys. Not sure what that says about me. Best not to dwell. Hope you will like.

On the first day of his first term John Watson met his roommate. Within three hours of that meeting, he knew why several other new boys had laughed uproariously when he announced during the train journey that he would be sharing with Holmes. They had apparently known him at prep school, but John, coming from a state school, knew no one and so had no idea why his assigned roommate was a source of humour.

But before the afternoon was over, John understood all too well. Holmes was completely insane. The room was already a disaster area with papers and books and what looked like lab equipment piled everywhere. Not to mention the skull. It was madness. John did not know how he was going to cope.

By the end of the first week, John realised that he was totally comfortable sharing space with Sherlock Holmes. Which was a bit worrying, he conceded. He could now sleep through the middle-of-the-night chaos and was fine with the whirling dervish explanation of whatever experiment in the wardrobe had made his clothing reek of vinegar. He didn’t even mind fetching an occasional meal in from the dining hall, worried that if he didn’t Sherlock would never eat at all. He was too thin already, although it had to be admitted that the thinness suited him.

When John went home for the first short break, he spent the whole time waiting for texts from London, where Sherlock had reluctantly gone to see his parents. By the time he walked back into their room and found Sherlock doing something unspeakable with what looked like a kidney, John accepted that he was entirely in love with the madman.

Which was a secret he would go to his grave with, he was sure. But that was fine. He didn’t mind having a secret love that was tucked inside his heart. He refused to think about those moments when he would glance up and find Sherlock studying him as if there were some mystery he couldn’t solve. Solving mysteries was what Sherlock did [mostly murders from the newspaper], but John feared that he was an open book.

The constant ruckus caused by his roommate had become the soundtrack to John’s life. Sherlock rarely slept, either working all night on one project or another, or sometimes just leaving the room altogether, for reasons that were never explained. Still, it was a surprise when John was abruptly awakened by Sherlock’s hand shaking his shoulder. “Wake up, John,” Sherlock was saying urgently.

Now it had to be admitted that John sometimes dreamt of being woken up urgently by Sherlock. So, at first, he just assumed it was another dream and since he enjoyed those dreams [sometime too much, embarrassingly] John just smiled and started to drift off again.

“John!” Sherlock said loudly.

Finally John blinked himself awake. “What?” he said, sounding a little grumpier than he’d intended. Maybe because he’d been looking forward to the dream.

Sherlock leaned closer and spoke damply into John’s ear. “There’s a body in the library!”

That made no sense at all to John. “There’s a what? Where?”

It always irritated Sherlock to have to repeat himself. “Somebody has murdered the librarian. I found the body. Come on, we need to examine the scene before someone calls the police.”

That didn’t sound right. What they had to do was call the police, of course. John blinked at Sherlock and saw the excitement in his oddly coloured eyes, the pinkness streaking his ridiculous cheekbones, the mess of curls that were so tempting to John’s fingers. And John Watson couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and kissed his roommate.

He had no idea what he might have expected Sherlock to do---laugh? Gag? Punch John?---but probably nowhere on that list was for him to enthusiastically return the kiss and even get a little tongue into the action. Just as John was relaxing into the whole thing, Sherlock pulled back. “Nice to see that you’ve finally caught up with me, John,” he said crisply. “But we have a murder!”

He pulled John out of bed and thrust some clothes at him. John dressed quickly and followed Sherlock from the room. As soon as he saw the body for himself, John called the authorities, ignoring Sherlock’s pout

John had honestly thought he already loved Sherlock Holmes as much as was possible. But that night, watching him dance around the crime scene and then explain his deductions to the belatedly arrived [and rather irritated] police, John knew that he had fallen even farther down that particular rabbit hole.

He didn’t think he would ever want to give it up.

That realisation terrified John Watson.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Title from: The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie


End file.
